


Red baths, limited

by orphan_account



Series: Tidbits [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, DCU (Comics), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Puns, Fluff and Crack, Gen, I mean, It's the Rogues, Joker (DCU) Bashing, Sorry Not Sorry, Sort Of, They're bitching about Joker, Unconventional Families, attempts at humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 15:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21430381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A dozen Rogues walk into a bar
Relationships: Edward Nygma & Jonathan Crane, Jason Todd & Selina Kyle, Jason Todd & The Rogues
Series: Tidbits [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541653
Comments: 18
Kudos: 556





	Red baths, limited

**Author's Note:**

> Originally Written for the Jason Todd birthday week day 3: Unconventional Family. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or any recognizable, or related, characters, settings, or plot device. This all belongs to DC comics, no copyright intended. I'm just playing in this sandbox, having a little fun with characters I love dearly. I make no profit from this, or from any other fanwork.
> 
> Plot? What's a plot? You mean I need to write something other than my faves interacting?

It’s April first, and most of Batman’s Rogues are holed up in a bar, waiting for the storm to pass.

Some days are unofficially claimed. It’s public knowledge that Scarecrows gets Halloween, Riddler Saint-Patrick, and so on. It’s less of an arrangement, and more of an unspoken rule.

Today’s Joker’s.

As per tradition, on Joker day, most of them (Croc has stopped coming to these things a few years back) are either already well and truly drunk, or on their way to getting there. For most of them, it’s been some years since they’ve been able to appreciate Joker’s idea of a joke.

Getting black-out drunk helps them cope.

They watch another clown-shaped balloon screech a particularly bad joke on the screen overlooking the bar, and Riddler tightens his grip on his glass.

“He’s managed to ruin puns.” Edward turns to Jonathan and frowns. “Can you believe he’s managed to ruin puns?”

Scarecrow grunts non-committally, taking a long sip of his fruity drink before speaking. “That’s never stopped you before.”

Edward’s reminded that while Jonathan’s does enjoy the grand art of twisting the English language to suit his needs; his proclivity for it is more along the lines of melodramatic speeches, rather than actual word play.

Close-minded Chem majors, the lot of them.

“And look where that got me. It’s almost as though_ He’s-” _There’s no question as to which ‘He’ Ed’s talking about, here. “-developed a sixth sense for them. We used to trade quips. Outsmart each other. Nowadays, he just grunts and tries to punch me in the face.”

Catwoman nods. “A sensible pawlicy, if you ask me.”

Ed resolves to spray-paint her suit green before the night’s over.

“I didn’t. Ask you, that is. You’re far worse than I am.”

“Lie.” She laughs, twirling _his_ hat on one of her claws. “I have a theme, I stick to it. And I, for one, have never spent an entire night tagging the Diamond District full of puns.”

His foul mood can’t keep the smile from slipping out at the memory. Jon’s fourteenth escape’s celebration had been **_fun_**.

Still, he has to protest. “Half of those were riddles.”

She nods.

“And all of them were awful. Hence why he goes directly for the punch, nowadays.”

He can’t remember them being quite as bad as she’s implying. Though, to be fair, he would admit that: “_No longer behind them, now only hopping them_. _We’ll save you Molotovs, if you work your ass off_.” had not been the finest riddle his genius brain has ever come-up with. Or painted all over Wayne Enterprises’ brand-new billboards.

“I was drunk.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.”

In insight, it might have been rather obvious, yes.

“Why is he even complaining.” Edward finally grumbles. “He likes puns.”

She leans forward, rests her cheek against her palm, and looks at him with a fond smile.

“Does he, now?”

“Sure. Look at his brats. When Nightwing does it, it’s a cute gimmick. But I do it, and suddenly: ‘That was awful, Nygma.’, ‘You’re a villain, Nygma.’, ‘Stop trying to murder him with that green question mark, Nygma.’ ”

“Nightwing, getting preferential treatment? Color me surprised.”

They turn. Seated next to them, the Red Hood is bitterly snorting into his drink.

“Who invited him?” Penguin grumbles.

“If I had to venture a guess? The Bats.” Scarecrow answers, in an equally grumbling tone.

“I invited myself, fuck you very much.”

Riddler waves a hand towards a corner of the ceiling.

“There’s no need for that. The Bats can spy for themselves.”

Red Hood and Harley look at the camera, then flip it off. Penguin sniffs disdainfully.

“And where, dare I ask, is the Riddler Movie? The Riddler comics? The Riddler animated series? It’s all Joker this, Joker that, Joker: Batman’s greatest enemy. The man has flair, I’ll give him that, but where’s the appeal? The intelligence? The mystery?”

“Would you _fucking stop it_ with the threes?!”

“Deep breaths, Harv’. He didn’t mean to.”

Debatable. Ed didn’t mean _two_, that’s for sure.

“I would watch a Riddler movie.” Red Hood nods, raising his Capri Sun then slurping its contents up noisily with the straw through his helmet’s mouthpiece.

“But no. God forbid we ask the writers, or the audience, to actually use their brains. Let children rot in front of the television! Senseless violence is all the rage these days. Unpredictable, _ha_! There is no pride in that. He dares to call it a game. A _game_.”

“Oh, and there he goes again.”

“You sound like an old man, Nygma!”

“Maybe I am. But at the very least, _I_ show some imagination in my work.”

Red Hood nods again.

“Chemical warfare was never his forte. We’re pretty sure the Venom’s some form of plagiarized fear gas.”

Scarecrow slams his _‘Suffering Bastard’ _down on the counter, a vicious look on his face. The orange slice adorning the glass slides sadly from its perch. It’s saved from a short - though tragic - end by Catwoman’s quick reflexes.

Ed nods.

“See, the kid gets it.”

“Would you two stop bitching for a hot minute?”

“Never.” Red Hood replies.

“I am not _bitching_. I am pointing out the preferent-”

“Anyway-” Scarecrow says, before Ed can try to make their feeble minds understand his point. Again. They’re being particularly obtuse about this. If he had to wager a bet as to why, Ed would say that it might be the number of concussions they’ve all suffered at Batman’s hands. “What are you doing here kid? Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on the brats? New one seems like the kind to run into trouble.”

Red Hood shrugs.

“Fought with the big bad Bats again?” Harley asks. If he didn’t know her better, he’d say her voice is almost sympathetic. She slips him another Capri Sun.

On the screen, another Joker-shaped balloon explodes with yet another disgusting cackle.

They wince. Red Hood stays stubbornly silent, hunching in on himself.

“It ain’t right what he did.” Someone says. It might be Clayface. They’re never a hundred percent sure whether it’s him or not.

“Chilled me to the bone.”

A round of groans. Someone throws their empty glass at Freeze.

“A waste.” Edward sniffs when the noise has died down. “Killing children. Their brains aren’t even fully developed yet.”

Catwoman unlatches Hood’s helmet and runs a hand through his hair affectionately. The domino ages him a little. Still, they’re all uncomfortably reminded of how very _young_ the kid is. He looks exhausted.

“Do I need to be mad at Him?” She asks. Her smile turns predatory. “Better. Do I need to make him mad?”

Penguin grunts in assent. “Just say the word, boy. The Bat and I still have a couple of scores to settle.”

“Ooooh, I know!” Calendar man adds. “How about we all do it? Make it an event?”

Another glass goes flying.

“It isn’t a bad idea.” Ed says. “Here’s how I thin-”

“You’re not in charge, Ed.” Jon says.

“And why ever not?”

They’re interrupted by a sudden, violent, rush of air.

Half of the room is already going for their weapons long before they register that it’s Flash, not Batman, and that he’s gaping at them, not attacking.

“What-” Flash says, obviously dumbstruck.

The following silence is deafening. It’s Penguin that defuses the sudden tension. “Sit down, boy. We aren’t hurting anyone.”

Flash hesitates a moment, then shrugs and sits. The room slowly relaxes. Weapons get stashed.

“What’s yer poison, Gorgeous?” Harley asks, batting her long eyelashes. She’s leaning over the bar, purposely putting her chest on full display and her hands are crossed under her chin. Ivy takes a long look at her, then slowly, dangerously, turns her attention to Flash.

“Er- No poison, please, Dr Quinn.” She pouts. A vial full of bubbling purple liquid disappears back under the counter. “I just came by to refuel. I’ll eat just about anything you’ve got.”

Harley’s eyes gleam with mischief. The ficus in the corner shakes a few leaves before it starts creeping forward in a menacing way.

“_Thatwasn’tsupposedtobeaninnuendo!_” Squeaks Flash. “I meant- Fries? Burgers? Pizza? Hot chocolate? Anything calorific?”

“Are ya telling me to cook for you, sweetheart?”

Both Flash and Ivy look offended at that.

“Nah, he ain’t like that. He’s just got a perpetual case of foot in mouth, is all.”

“Hood?” Flash says, startled. “What are you doing here?”

“Plotting Gotham’s fiery doom. Gotta make sure our schedules are clear before Penguin and I go club some baby seals. Why? What’s it looks like?”

“No, I didn’t mean- It’s just that Robs’ been looking everywhere for you.”

This time, it’s all three Sirens, Red Hood, and Riddler that flip off the camera.

“Ooookay, then.” Says the Flash, shrugging. He leans towards Red Hood. “Anything you want to share? I’m told I’m a good listener.”

Red Hood slides a Capri sun over to him out of his ever-growing supply. Harley tends to go slightly over-board when she feels bad.

For all that they usually dread April first; most years the day doesn’t turn out to be so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Wally's here because of that one lovely moment in the Justice League Unlimited Cartoon where he does exactly that with one of his villains. 
> 
> Fun fact: Red baths, limited = Bat, Riddle me this


End file.
